Lost & Found
by Kasey22
Summary: Post War, Hermione has left the Order after experiencing some awful things at the hands of Voldemort and company. Harry tracks her down. Rated M for some discussion of torture and rape, and sex bt Harry & Hermione. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: I don't know exactly how Half Blood Prince ends (because I haven't reached the end yet) and no one really knows what the seventh book will be, but I'm assuming that there is a war coming and I'm assuming that Snape is a double agent, really working for the Order of the Phoenix (the good guys) but pretending to be a loyal Death Eater (the bad guys).

A/N: This is rated R for discussion of torture and rape, and there is sex with my favorite pairing, Harry & Hermione. Slightly AU. Also, this has not been beta'd, so please be gentle. Reviews are always welcome.

A/N2: This has been updated with a suggestion from my wonderful beta reader Particle Accelerator.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the storyline.

Lost & Found

After a year of looking, of combing muggle telephone directories, of searching the faces on the street in Diagon Alley, of interrogating his friends and family, and performing more than one memory altering charm on unsuspecting Muggles, here he was. Number 12 Wilde Lane in a village so tiny it didn't even have a proper name, and so far north that he was almost in Scotland.

There was a heavy mist in the air and as he lifted his hand to knock, Harry Potter almost turned around and left. She had after all disappeared from the wizarding world over a year ago, soon after Snape had rescued her and the War had finally been won. Hermione Granger had deserted everything she knew and everyone she loved to come here, to this cheerless place in the middle of nowhere.

The air was cool on his face and he tightened his scarf thinking of the chilly reception he was likely to meet inside. He wondered how she could stand this climate – so cold and dark all the time. It was the height of summer, his birthday was coming, and yet it had to be only fifty degrees.

There was movement inside the darkened little house and Harry inclined his head, listening for footsteps. He knocked again, louder this time and he heard the squeak of someone opening the peephole and then closing it again very quickly. There was silence and he finally called out, "Hermione? Are you in there?"

The door finally swung open and he was face to face with his former best friend. She was pale and bushy-haired as always, but her face was wary, her chocolate brown eyes distrustful. "What are you doing here?" she asked, even as she fought the urge to jump into his arms and weep at the mere sight of him.

Her voice sounded stretched to Harry, as if it were so taught it might break with continued use. "What am I doing here?" he repeated. "I've come to see you. Can I come in?"

She glanced behind him, as if to make sure he was alone, and then nodded, opening the door wider for him to enter. He passed over the threshold and into the small, cozy little room that served as her sitting room. There was a fire in the grate that crackled and an overstuffed chair pushed close to it with a book left abandoned on it. Harry could see that he had interrupted a quiet evening of reading. Same old Hermione, he thought with a flicker of a smile.

Hermione closed the front door quietly behind him and he turned to see that she had crossed her arms protectively over herself and was staring at the floor near his feet. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked.

"Whatever you're having," he replied, spying a glass of red wine on the little table near her chair by the fire. He followed her into the kitchen where she silently got down another glass and poured him something from a bottle she kept on top of the refrigerator.

She led him back into the warm little sitting room and she gestured to a second chair that he had missed in his first, cursory glance around the little room. It was smaller than the one she clearly favored, but it was close to the fire and he settled gratefully into it staring at her.

For the next few minutes the silence was broken only by the crackling and snapping of the fire. Harry hoped that she would just start talking without him having to ask. His patience was wearing thin. It had been more than a year since she'd disappeared and after searching high and low this was not the reception he'd hoped for.

Hermione was torn. She still wanted to fly at him and hug him and tell him that he was a sight for sore eyes, but she held back. _This_ was her world now and he had undoubtedly come to talk her into returning with him, and that was an impossibility.

Finally, she gave in and asked again, "What are you doing here?"

"Can't an old friend pay a call?" he replied. Then, suddenly, hating the charade they were playing, he said, "I've come to find out what happened to you."

"Nothing happened to me," she said simply.

"You are the cleverest witch of your age in case you forgot and you're holed up here in some no-name muggle village living like I don't know what. _What happened_?"

Hermione stared at him. She had not expected this. She'd expected them to miss her, perhaps mourn her, maybe try to find her, but not actually succeed in tracking her down. "How is everyone?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Everyone is fine. They all want you back. Now that the War is ended especially. No one could believe it when you disappeared, right out from under our noses. Snape had just returned with you and you were in such a state and then, just when you were starting to make improvements, you vanished." Harry had been looking into the fireplace or he would have seen her stiffen at the name of their old Potions Master.

"I had to," she said softly. "It was the only way. I couldn't live there anymore, I just couldn't. I had to get away and stay away."

"No you didn't," Harry scoffed. "You just think you did."

"You don't know anything," she told him, her voice still even.

Harry was silent again for a moment and then asked, "Why won't you tell me? It must have something to do with Voldemort capturing you, right? Listen, no matter what happened, it doesn't change the fact that you're still our Hermione. It doesn't change the fact that we miss you. You should come home and get well with us."

Hermione looking at him full in the face and caught something in those perfect green eyes of his. She wanted so badly to fall into them and hold on to him. Trust him. But instead she shook her head and frowned. "Too much has happened."

"Snape said you'd say that." This time he was looking at her and saw her shiver. "He's the only one who was against my coming to you once I'd discovered where you were."

"You should have listened to him," she told him quietly, her eyes dropping to her hands loose in her lap. Then, "Does anyone else know where I am?"

"Listened to Snape!" Harry exclaimed. "Who are you and what have you done with my best friend? And no, I left in a hurry when I finally figured it out, only Ron and Luna know I've even left, but I didn't have a chance to tell them anything."

Hermione gave him a little smile, acknowledging the title she no longer felt worthy to carry. "Please, Hermione. Please just tell me what happened."

"Does the Order still meet?" she asked changing the subject.

"Periodically," he said, letting out a sigh.

"And have you ever asked Snape this question?"

Harry stared at her. "Snape has never been forthcoming with information. We all tried to get him to tell us what happened when you were being held and he was pretending to be a Death Eater. But he would never say."

Hermione nodded and looked away again, into the fire. The ache in her chest, the one she'd been pushing down for so long, crept to the surface and spread out. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"No matter what it is, you'll always be our Hermione. There's nothing so horrible that we would prefer you away from us."

"I appreciate that," she answered. "But this isn't about what you would prefer. It's about me and what I want, and what I want is to be left alone."

"But," he argued, "I don't understand. Whatever happened, we can help you deal with it."

"I have no interest in sharing this with anyone. I don't want your or anyone else's pity and I don't want the prying eyes and gossips of the wizarding world speculating on anything. I just want to fade away."

"Well that's too bad," Harry said fiercely. "We love you too much to let that happen. Do you know Luna had to physically hold Ron down to keep him from coming with me?"

"They're still together?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"And expecting their second in about seven month's time."

"I'm happy for them," she said. "Please tell them I say congratulations."

"Why don't you tell them yourself?"

"No," she answered stiffly, her smile now gone.

"Why don't you tell me, just me, what happened."

Hermione looked at him and shivered again. His beautiful green eyes glittered in the firelight. Dark had long since taken hold of the room and the fire provided the only light. The chairs were so close that their feet resting on the floor could have touched.

"If I tell you, will you promise never to reveal it to anyone and to leave here and never come back?"

Harry hesitated, then surreptitiously crossed his toes and agreed.

"I mean it, Harry. This is something that the wizarding world is not going to take well and I would just as soon keep it from them for the rest of my life.

"I promise," he repeated, this time meaning it a little more.

Hermione took a large sip of wine and stood up facing the fire, her arms crossed over her chest again. She began slowly, tentatively, "You remember when I was captured? When it actually happened?"

Harry nodded silently. He didn't want to do or say anything that might make her change her mind. From his seat in the other chair, he watched her stand, rigid, before the fire, hair glinting in the changing light.

"Snape caught hold of me that day and would have secretly released me, I think, if it hadn't been for all the other Death Eaters present. He had no choice but to take me back to their fortress and present me to Voldemort as a captive. Of course, they knew who I was. Lucious and Draco Malfoy were both there to educate them if need be, but they knew I was close to you and a mudblood, to boot.

"As a reward, Voldemort offered me to Snape as a prize, a pet. At first he refused but it was clear that Malfoy would have been next in line to receive the spoils of war, so Snape finally accepted me, before them all, as his just reward."

Harry looked appalled but remained quiet. His mind was racing back to all the conversations he'd had with Snape, trying to get him to explain what had happened to them.

"It all seems so fuzzy and yet so clear at the same time," Hermione murmured. She was staring into the flames now, taken away by the memory. "Snape took a handful of my hair and would have dragged me away somewhere but Voldemort wanted to enjoy the spectacle. He wanted Snape to prove once again that he was on their side. I think Voldemort never truly trusted him. It wasn't until that moment that I really understood what was going to happen."

Harry's eyes were wide with horror as Hermione said calmly and slowly, "Snape…forced me…there…in front of everyone".

Harry stood. "I'll kill him," his said, his voice thick with hatred.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," she replied, staring at him. "If Snape had refused me it would have been another of the Death Eaters. Perhaps the Malfoys taking turns. Or, even worse, Voldemort would have tortured and killed us both on the spot. It wasn't… pleasant, but it was better than death."

Harry sat down again, stunned. He thought perhaps she was the strongest person he'd ever known. "I'm so sorry," was all he could say.

"Don't be sorry. And don't ever feel guilty. I think it was more because I was muggle-born that a friend of yours. To those people mudbloods were less than human. Dogs to be used and disposed of when their use was over."

"Still," he said, staring up at her still frame. "You've been through too much."

She smiled a sardonic little smile and whispered, "I've only just begun, Harry."

His face paled a little but he swallowed and nodded that she should continue. "Bellatrix LaStrange was there and eager to snatch me away from Snape to provide some carnal entertainment for her little Draco. The rules, or what amounted to rules, dictated that Snape had to 'mark' me has his property at least daily or she would complain to Voldemort that I wasn't being punished enough for being a mudblood. During the day she would torture me and during the night Snape would…" but she didn't finish the sentence. Her voice had broken and her throat tightened. She was putting on a brave face but inside she was reliving it again.

Harry swallowed hard and covered his eyes with a hand but a picture had already sprung to mind. Snape's pale body crushing poor Hermione night after night, his greasy hair falling into her eyes. It was almost too much to bear. Her voice broke into his thoughts as she continued the story.

"Anyway, I don't really remember exactly how it happened but there were a few weeks when the battles were extremely heated and I didn't have a wand so it was up to Snape to perform the…contraceptive charms. I guess he forgot a time or two because after three months or so…well…"

Harry lifted his eyes to her as a fresh wave of revulsion washed over him. "Snape's…_child_?"

Roughly scrubbing a hand over her cheeks, Hermione let out a strangled sob. Harry stood again and pulled her into a tight hug, smoothing her curls with one hand, rubbing her back with the other. "I'm so sorry," he repeated hoarsely, feeling utterly helpless.

Winding her arms around his waist, Hermione gave in to the pain in her chest that she'd been pushing down for so many months, running away from. She squeezed him back and got control of her breathing, needing to finish the story.

"I don't know how it happened. I don't know if Voldemort guessed or if he read my mind, but he knew. He figured it out. And he punished us. With a flick of his wand I began to bleed. There was no one to help me but Snape, and he couldn't appear to be helping too much. Oh, God, Harry, there was so much blood. I thought I was finally going to die. I prayed for it," she told him miserably

Harry held her tighter and fantasized about murdering Snape slowly, skinning him alive and then removing one appendage at a time, starting with fingers. Hermione pulled her face back from his chest and said, "I think it was the final straw for Snape. Voldemort had killed his child, had called it an 'abomination'. The War be damned. Snape had finally had enough pretending and that night, in the state I was in, we escaped. Don't ask me how because I was delirious from the blood loss. I only remember being very cold, and then waking up at Grimmauld Place."

He brushed away more tears with his fingers and pressed his hand to her cheek. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever known, Hermione Granger. I can't even imagine…you…" Harry trailed off, feeling overwhelmed by the emotion. She had been raped, repeatedly, become pregnant, and had the child murdered within her. No wonder she'd left them all. This was more than just licking her wounds; this was about repairing herself body and soul.

Hermione shook her head and touched a hand to his still pressed to her wet cheek. "Don't, Harry. There are those who've survived much worse. But I just…I can't go back. I can't face the wizarding world and the questions. And I don't want to see Snape again. We've both lost too much."

With a soft nod, Harry said, "I understand. And I'll keep my promise. But…you know Hermione, you don't have to do this alone. You don't have to _be_ alone. Let me come and stay with you. Or Luna if you don't want me…"

She sniffled and pulled away from Harry. "I don't want anyone, especially Luna." The words had tumbled out before she could stop them. She walked back to her chair but didn't sit down. "I…I've been to a healer, Harry. More than one. Voldemort took more than just the child, he took my ability to have any other children." Harry stared at her, not entirely comprehending this.

"You mean you're…"

"Unable to conceive," she told him flatly. "Ever."

It was too much, Harry thought. Too much to have happen to one person.

xoxox

Later on, Hermione fixed them both a light supper and offered to let Harry stay the night. She had only one bed and no couch, so they decided to share. Hermione felt that after her story, Harry could not possibly want anything romantic or sexual from her, and Harry felt that after what had happened to her, she couldn't possibly want anything from him.

They lay in bed together, listening to the wind in the trees outside and it occurred to Harry to ask a question. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she replied from her side of the dark bed.

"How did you find this place?"

She rolled over so that she faced him and smiled, "My parents brought me here on vacation one summer when I was small. My father's a historian and apparently, some epic battle took place on the outskirts of this town between the Saxons and the Vikings. It was far enough away and yet close enough to where I wanted to be that it worked."

"And what have you been doing for money?"

"I work in the village book shop."

"A muggle book shop?"

"Yes."

"Amazing."

She smiled. Hermione could see his eyes in the dark and they were focused on her. Harry turned on his side, too, to face her.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, tentatively.

"You can tell me anything," she replied quietly, looking at him intently.

"When you disappeared," he began, "I…I couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. It felt like we'd been through hell on earth fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters and now that it was over, you weren't there to share it with. I missed you. More than you can know."

Hermione glanced away, hating the look in his eyes. "I missed you, too, Harry."

In the dark and silence, Harry lifted a hand and stroked her cheek again. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, Harry. He did what he had to do for us to survive, to _live_."

"I know, but I can still hate him."

"I don't hate him. It was his child that was killed, too. He is not someone who will easily conceive another."

Harry thought about this. Snape was not someone he could picture falling in love and starting a family.

"I don't care," he said softly, stubbornly. "I want to hate him."

Hermione lifted a hand to meet his on her cheek and she stroked the long fingers she found there. "That's why I won't go back. There's no way to keep this from people and he doesn't deserve the villainy of it. He took my virginity. Stole it. But I can't hate him. I can't hate someone who was as much of a victim as I was."

"A victim," Harry exclaimed.

"Think about the alternative, Harry. He could have passed me off to the Malfoys who would have been much worse. He could have confessed to Voldemort and we would have been killed on the spot. I think that time must haunt him."

Harry thought about what he knew of Snape. How reserved he'd become. How withdrawn and quiet, even more than normal. The man had looked positively _hunted_ since they'd been back.

"Maybe you're right," Harry conceded, stroking her face gently. "I still wish you'd change your mind and come back with me."

"Harry, I would do almost anything in the world for you, but I can't do that."

xoxox

The next morning, Harry gradually drifted awake long before the sun rose. He was on his side and Hermione's back was pressed against his, one of his arms was thrown over her small waist and his fingers had been caught between her legs so that her soft thighs were holding them prisoner. Her light t-shirt had ridden up in the night so that it was bunched around her waist and the white cotton panties were thin and worn from use. The shirt he'd borrowed from her and his boxer shorts were unable to hide the fact that his body was responding, involuntarily, to hers pressed so close and warm up against him.

Before he could try to extricate himself, Hermione wiggled her bottom against him and moved her feet in the way that sleeping people do who are about to wake up. Harry was mortified. After everything she'd been through with Snape, he was practically coming on to her in the most inappropriate way. Again he tried to move his arm and roll away but this time her voice stopped him.

"Harry." It was a voice still thick with sleep. She lifted a hand and began to rub the arm that was trapped by her thighs. Harry thought he would die from the embarrassment. His body throbbed painfully at her wriggling and he shut his eyes for a moment before opening them again to say, "Good morning."

"Can I tell you something?" she had ignored his greeting and was using his words from the night before.

"You can tell me anything," he replied.

She continued to rub his arm, tickling the light hair she found there and she moved her bottom again. Harry stared at the back of her head praying for her to stop before he had an accident.

"Before it all happened," she began, her voice so small it was almost lost in the darkened room. "Before the war and my capture, before any of it, when we were all back at school, I used to wonder and worry about that it would be like, my first time." Again Harry involuntarily tightened his arm about her waist and pressed a quick kiss to the back of her head. "I never imagined that it would be like it was and I sort of feel like though I am not technically a virgin anymore, I've never really experienced sex as a good thing." Harry snaked his other arm, the arm he'd been laying on top of, up to her shoulder and squeezed. How he wished he'd been able to protect her from it all.

"Anyway," she continued, "when I used to think about what that first time would be like, I often thought about whom it would be with." At this, Hermione gave his arm a light squeeze before continuing with her rubbing. Harry swallowed. "Because we were so close and because I always trusted you, your name was always at the top of the list." Harry swallowed again, hard, and took a deep breath. His body was about to explode right there between them. He didn't know what to say, but he opened his mouth hoping that the right words would come to him. Luckily, she saved him by continuing, "I can understand if you don't want to, but in order to live a normal or even semi-normal life I would like to experience it. I want to, if not make love with someone, then have sex that isn't forced, or an act of war."

This time, Harry found his voice quickly. "What are you asking?"

She wiggled her bottom against his groin again and he closed his eyes. "I'm asking if you'll do me the honor of being my first consensual sexual experience."

"You make it sound like a lab experiment," he half-joked, hoping to buy some time.

"If you're saying no, just say it. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of what's happened to me. But if you can't handle it, just say so." Her voice had turned cold and her feet pulled away from his under the covers.

"No," he said sharply, lifting a leg and dragging her feet back to his. He left his leg on top of hers for good measure.

"It's not that I'm embarrassed or ashamed. I just don't want to ruin our friendship."

"It's been over a year since we've seen each other," she reminded him reasonably, "and you promised never to come back and not to tell anyone where I am." His words flooded back to him. "I just want this one time before we part ways." She'd begun rubbing his arm again. "That's all."

Harry was silent again finally realizing what she was asking. After finding her again could he really make love to her and then leave? Never see her again, _ever_?

Hermione meanwhile had used up most of her courage. Dawn was breaking outside and her dark room would soon be filled with the light of day. She knew how hard it was to deal with things in the light of day. Harry was still silent behind her. She could feel him hard and ready and she cursed herself. Me and my bright ideas. It was too much for him, she could see that now. It had been a mistake to ask. Slowly, she began to pull away. She needed to put some distance between herself and his rejection. To her surprise, though, he pulled her back to him and rolled her so that she lay on her back and he on his side. His dark hair was messy as always but his green eyes were filled with something new. Something she'd thought she'd seen last night. She laid there, arms at her sides, waiting.

Harry was propped on one elbow staring down at her. He let his other hand drop lightly onto her stomach, just to gauge her reaction and the overall situation. When she'd started pulling away he'd suddenly seen the two choices very clearly: either grant her wish and then never see her again, or get up and leave and never see her again. The 'never see her again' part was the deciding factor. His fingers lightly brushed the skin of her flat stomach where her t-shirt had ridden up. The thin white cotton panties showed him an outline of the dark curls beneath and he swallowed hard again.

"If this is really what you want," he told her softly, "then my answer is yes. You will always be my best friend, though, and I can't promise that I'll never come back." At her look of indignation, he lifted the hand from her stomach and said, "I know I promised, and I'll keep the promise about not telling anyone where you are, but Hermione I need you. I need you in my life and your desire to live like a hermit doesn't change that. So, I'll make you a deal: I'll agree to be your 'first consensual sexual experience'," he smiled a little at her clinical phrasing, "if you'll agree that I can come and visit you from time to time."

Hermione's dark eyes narrowed as she looked up into his green ones and thought about his proposal. "You won't tell anyone?"

"Not if you don't want me to," he said dropping his hand back onto her stomach.

She licked her lips, thinking, and Harry's mouth opened as he watched her tongue. Never in his wildest dreams would he have expected this. He'd wanted her for as long as he could remember. Certainly he had had girlfriends and she boyfriends, but in the back of his mind he'd always hoped that they'd end up together, somehow.

"All right," she said finally, lifting her arms and dropping one hand on top of his on her stomach and putting the other against his chest. Harry moved closer and shifted off his elbow so that their bodies were very close. Slowly, carefully, he brushed his lips against hers and her sharp intake of breath nearly was his undoing. Under his hand, her stomach began to move with her rapid breathing. His emerald green eyes still boring into her dark chocolate ones, he did it again, only this time he let his mouth linger, tasting her slowly, exploring her soft lips.

Hermione felt a stab of panic, but she calmed her racing heart and reminded herself that this was Harry. Harry would stop if she asked him too and because of that, she was determined not to ask him. She let her hands wander up one of his arms to a broad shoulder. He felt so solid under her fingers, so strong and unstoppable. Snape had felt…no, she wouldn't do that. There would be no comparison. This was an act of love between friends.

Her thoughts were broken when she felt Harry's mouth open and his tongue sweep over her bottom lip. Her heart gave an unexpected leap and when she opened her mouth to give a soft moan, Harry took advantage. His fingers were now tangled in her dark curls and her soft little moans were driving him wild. He wanted her so badly, had wanted her for so long.

Carefully, he settled himself between her legs. They were both still wearing their underwear and t-shirts, he just wanted her to get the feel of it before moving forward. To his utter astonishment, she pressed her hips against his and he had to break the kiss they'd been sharing in order to let loose a guttural moan.

Hermione took this to mean that she had done something wrong and she pulled back slightly. "Is everything all right?" she asked tentatively.

"Everything except how difficult it is to do this slowly," he told her wryly.

She blinked at him, at first not understanding, but then she smiled shyly and said, "Take off your shirt."

He quickly obliged, sitting up to doff the shirt and toss it over his shoulder. Hermione laughed lightly and reached up to kiss him again. His warm skin felt smooth under her touch. She had the urge to touch him all over; she couldn't get enough. As he brought his mouth back down to hers she ran her hands up and down his back going lower and lower each time until she was lightly cupping his bottom on each pass.

Harry had settled himself between her legs again and his weight felt good, right. His hands traveled under her t-shirt to stroke the silky skin of her belly. He had the fleeting thought that he should perform a contraception charm but then realized there wasn't any point. Voldemort had robbed her of the ability to have children. He felt a sharp pang deep in his heart at this. He had always thought that if he and Hermione could get together, they would be very happy living in the country somewhere, bringing up their family. It occurred to him that Voldemort had stolen not only his parents but also his children.

Holding her very tightly now, Harry forced himself to concentrate. There was an exceptionally large bit of anger coursing through his veins but it could wait. Hermione was too important and this was too special a thing to ruin it with his fury at Voldemort or Snape.

Hermione broke into his thoughts by pulling away enough to strip off her own t-shirt leaving just her white cotton panties. She threw the shirt onto the floor and Harry gazed at her in the soft dawn light. Her breasts swelled softly with rosy tips and before he could even think it through he'd bent his head down to taste one. Her soft gasp caught him off-guard and he lifted his head to smile reassuringly at her before returning. He suckled her gently at first but her moans soon urged him on. She laced one hand through is dark hair and made a fist. He moved to the other breast then and she again let out a gasp at the sensation.

One hand moved to cup the breast he'd started with, pinching the nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Her squeals of pleasure nearly made him come in his pants but he forced himself to concentrate on her. She wouldn't thank him if her first 'consensual' time ended because he couldn't control himself.

Her hands were tentatively exploring his body now, stroking him through the thin fabric of his underwear. He tore his mouth away from her breasts and kissed her hard on the mouth. This, thankfully stilled her hand and while she was distracted he reached down and began to edge her panties off. She immediately lifted her hips and pushed them down her to her ankles.

Carefully, Harry moved one hand down to the dark curls below her bellybutton and then further still until he could feel that she was soft and wet and very ready for him. She was panting now, and whispering his name.

He couldn't hold out any longer. Quickly, he kicked his shorts off and moved to her entrance. Poised there, he stared at her until she opened her eyes and nodded. "Please," she whispered.

It was all he'd needed. With one stroke he filled her completely. She was so wet that he had not had to go slowly, letting her body adjust. There, sheathed in her hot, wet body, Harry thought he'd explode. His arms were balanced on either side of her head and her hands had stilled on his neck. She seemed to be holding her breath.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she breathed, opening her eyes again. She did not remember closing them. "I'm better than fine. It feels amazing."

With a jerk, Harry realized what she was saying. It might have been the first time she'd ever made love, but she was not a virgin. It didn't hurt. Quickly, his instincts took hold and he pulled out almost completely before thrusting into her again. She snaked her legs around his and she met him thrust for thrust. Their bodies found their own rhythm and Hermione quickly climaxed. It was as if the stars were falling out of the sky. Her head fell back and all she could feel was wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her entire being.

Harry felt the spasms begin and almost immediately his own climax took hold. He felt the explosion to this fingers and toes and when it was over, when they were lying there, still joined together, her fingers laced in his hair, his hands stroking her sides, Harry felt that he never wanted to leave her little house.

xoxox

Much later, after their breathing had slowed and Harry had carefully disengaged and settled himself on his side, Hermione rolled over onto her stomach feeling particularly naked and vulnerable. Her long dark curls fanned out over her back just barely touching the crest of her little bottom.

Harry pulled the sheet up to his waist and stroked her back through her thick curtain of dark hair. Her eyes were closed and a smile played gently at her mouth. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You are most heartily welcome," he told her with mock gravity, running his hand under her hair now, letting his fingers play on her still-heated skin. He watched her a while, absently enjoying the feel of her silky smooth skin, until his mind registered something. There was something about the skin on her back…he slowly brushed her hair away and tried to take a closer look but he needed his glasses.

Reaching for them on the nightstand and putting them on, Harry could now see that there appeared to be lines drawn down her back…no, he suddenly realized. Lines had been _cut_ into her back.

"Hermione?" he said with a quavering voice.

"Hmm," she replied, a faint smile still dancing on her lips.

"What…what is this?" He traced a line up to her shoulder where it met another line that seemed to be heading toward the center of her back.

"What's what?" she asked dreamily.

"What is this that's been _sliced_ into you?"

Her eyes opened then and her smile faded. He stared at her, waiting for an explanation, until she took one hand and silently swept her dark hair aside. He saw then what his fingers had felt. The pink and white scar tissue of lines forming two letters almost glowed under the pale, smooth skin surrounding them. The "M" followed the outline of her back with the two outer lines running up her sides to points at her shoulders and from there each heading toward the center of her back to form a 'v'. The "B" sat just below the vee's downward point, nestled between the two "M" lines.

"Who did this?" he asked, quiet fury twisting through his voice so that it was almost shaking.

Hermione looked away. She could almost forget that it was there sometimes. "It was a group effort," she finally said. "Mostly Bellatrix, though. She was in charge of the day to day care of prisoners, if you can call it care," she finished with a smile. "All mudbloods were marked as such. It's the only other thing the healers couldn't put back to normal. I don't know what spell she used but I've tried everything and it just won't fade."

"Did Snape know about this?"

"Of course," she said softly, watching his eyes which were still trained on her scarred back.

With a short nod Harry bit out, "I don't care what you say, when I get back he and I will be having words."

"No!" she cried, losing her temper. "You promised! Do you think he enjoyed himself? Do you think it was pleasant for him? He understood exactly how awful it was for me, but we would both be dead if he'd revealed anything. Besides I wouldn't be surprised if it's ruined his life at this point. I won't go back with you because I don't want their pity, but mostly I won't go back because it would be impossible to see him again and it would most definitely be impossible for _him_ to see _me_."

Harry, in his heart, had to concede that she was probably right. Snape had never been the same once they'd come back. He'd been the only one unsurprised when Hermione had disappeared, had actually seemed a little relieved over it. He dropped his head and then looked up and nodded slowly, allowing his anger, not to fade, but settle in his stomach for later.

Hermione let out the breath she'd been holding before reaching to bring his head down until her mouth lightly touched his. He laid back down draping one leg over hers and one arm over the small of her back and deepened the kiss.

Her tongue swept into his mouth and he felt her turn onto her side so that they lay flush against each other. Her nipples brushed against his chest and he was immediately hard again. Hermione pushed him over onto his back and she straddled him, never breaking the kiss as her lean legs settled on either side of his hips. Slowly, she lowered herself onto Harry.

He groaned, tearing his mouth away, dizzy with pleasure. Hermione smiled and sat up letting her hands come to rest on his shoulders. He reached up and took a breast in each hand, pinching the hardened nipples. She sucked in air, quickly, and closed her eyes moving her hips against his. Harry dropped his hands to her hips then and again their bodies found a rhythm. When she came, Hermione let her head drop back and her mouth hang open, eyes closed and hair swinging, and the sight was enough to send Harry spiraling toward his own completion.

When they'd each finished, Hermione dropped to his chest and pressed herself against him. "I'm glad," he heard her say into his shoulder.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"I'm glad that you made me agree to let you come visit me," Hermione explained quietly, her voice tight with emotion.

Harry rubbed her back with both hands and said, "Me, too." It's a start, he thought. It's a start.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: See Chapter One

A/N: This is rated R for a reason, the pairing is Harry & Hermione. It's slightly AU.

Big thanks go out to ParticleAccelorator for the fabulous beta-reading. This a better story as a result.

Reviews are coveted (in case you were wondering).

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the storyline.

xoxox

Hermione discovered just how lonely and isolated her little cottage was after Harry left. Before he'd come to her she'd found it peaceful and quiet, a sanctuary against the outside world. Now, she longed to hear his voice filling the rooms, and feel his laughter just behind her ear. She missed his scent, as if she were an animal whose mate had gone away or been killed.

The t-shirt he'd borrowed from her had been thrown into her laundry pile, but she'd retrieved it and had been wearing it at night. Her lip curled and she silently berated herself for being such a pathetic woman, but on the other hand, she reasoned, she had no real way of knowing that he actually would come back, and she would be less than human if she didn't miss him.

xoxox

For his part, Harry had apparated quickly back to Grimmauld Place where he kept his promise of not revealing Hermione's whereabouts. As he'd predicted, though, this did not sit well with Ron. It upset Ginny and Luna as well, but Ron took it particularly badly. They had, after all, been a trio of best friends. All of a sudden, Ron felt like an unwanted hanger-on.

"Look," Harry said, trying to soothe Ron's feelings, "she's been through an incredibly difficult time. She would only tell me what happened if I promised not to tell anyone where she was and exactly what occurred, and believe me, you really don't want to know anyway."

"That's easy for you to say!" Ron scoffed, as the four of them sat around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place.

"How did she look?" Ginny asked, ignoring Ron's dramatics. There was concern in her voice.

Here Harry paused, but then admitted, "A little too thin, but for the most part, okay."

"Is she still in England?" Ron pressed.

"Ron-" Luna said, a little reproachfully.

"Ron, try to understand. Think about the worst things that could possibly happen to a woman in the hands of an enemy and then multiply that by ten," _or three months,_ Harry thought grimly. Little Arthur, Ron and Luna's son, toddled into the kitchen in his walker and shouted, "A-La-La!"

The four of them sat quietly for a moment until Luna got up and retrieved Arthur from the floor and returned with him to the table. The baby's red hair was abundant.

"But even if that were the case, there's no shame in it. Why stay away? Does she really think we'll judge her?" Ron continued to argue. "Us!"

Harry shook his head. He'd known this was going to be difficult, but he hadn't expected such resistance. How could he explain without spilling the beans about Snape? Then, with a flare of hatred in his chest, he asked himself why he was protecting Snape. Did the man really deserve it? Hadn't he, after all, brutalized Hermione in the most terrible way?

Crookshanks chose that moment to saunter into the kitchen to join the group. Ron made a face and stood up, understanding that he wouldn't be getting the answers he wanted from Harry.

xoxox

At the end of the week, Hermione unlocked the door to her tiny house and walked inside. The little muggle book shop had been as quiet as usual and it had been hours since she'd had anyone to talk to. She missed Harry more than she'd thought possible. Her body ached for him and she cursed it as weak.

She dropped her bag by the door and moved into the kitchen for something to eat, and grudgingly admitted to herself that she missed Ron, too. And Ginny and Luna. Harry had said that Luna and Ron were expecting their second baby in seven months time. She was suddenly very curious about their first. Why hadn't she thought to ask Harry if it was a boy or girl? How old was it now?

Hermione opened a cupboard and saw that it was still bare. "Pretzels again," she decided, grabbing a bag off the mostly empty shelf and making a mental note to buy food. She poured herself a glass of wine and moved into the sitting room. It was so quiet.

Before falling into her cushiony chair, she snapped the radio on and lit a fire in the grate. She'd never replaced the wand Voldemort had destroyed at her capture. She didn't use magic at all anymore and lighting the fire took a few minutes.

The book she'd put down before going to bed the night before was exactly where she'd left it and Hermione picked it up and had just settled into her soft chair when a knock at the door made her jump. "Harry!" she exclaimed, standing quickly.

xoxox

Harry apparated outside of a gloomy house on the edge of London. It looked near to falling apart. Shingles were missing, shutters were unhinged, the grass was in desperate need of cutting, and the front porch sagged so forcefully under his weight that he wondered if he ought to perform a levitating charm. Wiping his musings from his mind, Harry pounded his fist on the ancient wood of the front door, a fresh wave of anger and revulsion swimming in his chest.

The door swung open and a pair of dark eyes met his green ones. "Potter," was the only greeting, spit out as if it tasted bad.

"Snape," Harry returned the sentiment with his own dose of rancor, but studied his old teacher. There were dark shadows under Snape's eyes and his face was etched with deep lines. His hair was longer than Harry remembered, though just as greasy-looking. Snape's lips were dry and cracked and he looked terribly thin under his heavy robes.

"To what do I owe this honor," Snape said bitingly. There had never been any love lost between them, but at this moment, looking at the man who had cause Hermione so much pain, Harry thought he could easily and quite happily perform more than one Unforgivable curse on Snape.

"I've seen Hermione," Harry replied coldly.

With a scowl, Snape opened the door wide and allowed Harry to enter. The inside of the house was worse than the outside. At first glance it reminded Harry of Snape's old office at Hogwarts. Quickly, his rage flaring on his tongue, Harry turned on the older man and said again, with significance, "_I've_ _seen Hermione_."

"So you said. How is she?" Snape asked meeting Harry's glowering stare with one of his own.

"How is she?" Harry repeated, his temper almost getting the better of him. He wanted to throttle Snape with his bare hands, the bastard. His fists clenched involuntarily at his sides "How do you _think_ she is?"

Snape turned away at this and moved to stand at the window facing out onto the dingy little street. Harry was surprised. Snape had never backed down from a fight, especially with Harry. "She told you, then?" he asked quietly.

"Of course she did," Harry said scathingly.

"I can only tell you what I told her: I'm sorry."

The words were so simple and so filled with regret that Harry was taken aback for a moment. He quickly recovered, though, and in reply spit, "You're sorry? Sorry! Do you have any idea what you've _done_?"

"Yes, I think I do," Snape said quietly, turning around again, steel in his dark eyes. "I've ruined her life, which is why I respected her decision to leave. _You_, on the other hand, had to be the Boy Wonder again, didn't you? Couldn't leave well enough alone, had to go and _save_ her. Well, congratulations. If you've come to kill me, all I ask is that you do it quickly."

Harry was stunned and momentarily rendered speechless. "You admit that you're to blame?"

"I think _Voldemort_ ultimately deserves a _little_ of the blame," Snape replied sarcastically, "but looking back over these past months, I believe I chose wrongly. Perhaps we would have been better off dead. Perhaps I should have made the decision for us both and killed her before Voldemort had the chance to torture her.

"Anyway," Snape finished, his voice stark and bitter from years of disappointment and pain, "as I said before, if you've come to kill me, do it quickly. I am weak and though I've tried, I could never finish it myself."

"I'm not here to kill you," Harry told him coldly.

"Ahh," Snape sneered. "You think my punishment should be to live on, seeing those things over and over again in my head and heart until one day, sooner rather than later, I hope, I die of natural causes? Very clever, Potter. Very well played, indeed."

Snape's sarcasm rolled over Harry and he suddenly felt very foolish. This was exactly what Hermione had been talking about. Snape was a ruined man; what could Harry possibly do to him that was worse than what he was already suffering?

"She…told me about the child. I'm…sorry," Harry said, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"I don't want your pity, Potter," Snape growled. "If you've finished with me, then get out."

Harry's back stiffened but he didn't reply at first. "Fine," he said finally. "I'm sorry to have bothered."

"That makes two of us!" Snape shouted at Harry's back as Harry swung the front door open and took the porch steps two at a time. He felt he couldn't get away fast enough.

xoxox

Hermione swung the door wide and instead of the emerald green eyes she'd expected, she found instead the wizened old crone who lived in the next cottage over and who also happened to be her landlady. Hermione's heart sank.

"Hello, Mrs. Blackdash," Hermione said with a tentative smile. It was chilly with the door open and Hermione pulled her sweater closer to her body.

"My dear Miss Granger," said Mrs. Blackdash. "Do you know what day it is?" The old lady was wearing an outfit Hermione could not imagine on anyone else. Army green Wellies with white knee socks poking out the tops, the flowered skirt of a house dress flapping in the cold wind, and over it all, a yellow rain slicker usually seen on sea captains the world over. Her iron gray hair was in curlers, which were wrapped in bright orange netting.

"Friday?" Hermione guessed. Truly, she had no idea what day it was.

"It is, my dear Miss Granger, the _sixth_. Rent, as you well know, is due promptly each month on the _first_." There was something about this old woman that reminded Hermione of Professor Umbrage. Her words were delivered with sugar, but Hermione could tell that the underlying emotion was annoyance and resentment.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, blushing. It was not like her to be forgetful about important things like this. "I'll get it for you."

When Hermione had handed over the month's rent and sent Mrs. Blackdash on her way, she sank again into her chair by the fire, missing Harry more than ever.

xoxox

Harry stalked down Snape's front walk trying to decide what to do next. What he wanted to do was apparate to Hermione's little cottage in the north. He missed her. It had been four whole days and now, with the weekend stretching long before him, it was the perfect opportunity for it would kill two birds with one stone. He could avoid Ron a little bit longer and see Hermione at the same time.

But, he reasoned, if Ron was upset now, how would he feel if Harry just went off to see Hermione again and didn't tell him? No, he had to see Ron before going back to Hermione. And, decision made, Harry stopped where he was before Snape's disgusting house and apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

As he'd suspected, Luna was in the kitchen with Ginny preparing dinner. Though they did not all live there together, Grimmauld Place had become a replacement for Gryffindor's Common Room. People already felt at home there because it had been used as the headquarters for the Order for so long, and it was big enough to accommodate as many people as Harry wanted to entertain.

With a clap, Harry appeared in the front hall of his house and called, "Hullo?"

"In here," was the reply he heard and he followed the voice into the kitchen. Little Arthur was back in his walker babbling away at one of the portraits on the wall, while Ginny and Luna directed the dinner preparation from the table with their wands held up.

"Hello, Harry," said Ginny warmly. If there was one thing in his life Harry was truly grateful for it was that he and Ginny had been able to move from relationship to friendship without any real damage done.

"Hi," he replied. "Where's Ron?"

"Upstairs in the study," said Luna. "Sulking over your secret meeting with Hermione, I expect."

Harry colored. "It's not secret. Or at least, it's only secret because she doesn't want anyone there, not even me. I made her promise I could come back and let me tell you, it wasn't easy."

"Tell her we said hello, won't you?" Ginny asked. The care and concern in her eyes reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley and he nodded and said, "Of course I will."

"We miss her," Luna added. "Ask her if she's sure she couldn't stand a bit of female company."

Harry's eyes traveled down Luna's body to where her stomach was hidden under the tabletop and he tried to nod. Perhaps one day Hermione would be ready to see Luna and her children, but not right now. Right now the pain was too raw.

"I'll, uh…just go see what Ron's up to."

Beating a hasty retreat, Harry went upstairs and looked in on Ron in the study. He was stretched out on the couch, the evening edition of _The Daily Prophet_ opened and in front of him.

"Ron," Harry said, knocking on the door.

"Hey," Ron's single word was clipped and brusque.

"You're not still mad, are you?"

"What do you think?"

"Come on," Harry cajoled. "It's not fair. I promised! What do you want me to do?"

"She was my friend, too. You act like you're the only one who was worried about her."

"Of course I know I'm not the only one who was worried about her. I just…I _promised_. I am trying to get her to come back, but there are…extenuating circumstances."

"Like what," Ron demanded, finally putting the paper aside.

Harry stared at him. How could he tell Ron the whole sad story? Just thinking about it made his stomach roll and his conversation with Snape hadn't done anything to alleviate that. He wished he could kill Voldemort all over again.

"I can't tell you, it's not my place to say" Harry said finally. "I'm sorry."

Ron ignored the apology and picked his paper back up. With a sigh, Harry left the room. He needed to do one last thing before seeing Hermione again.

xoxox

Hermione had been sitting in her chair for almost an hour, but had only read half a page from her book. She couldn't think why her mind was so restless tonight. Her stomach growled and she rubbed it, wishing for more pretzels. The empty bag sat at her feet, mocking her.

She adjusted her feet under her bottom and tried to concentrate. Instead of filling the room with life, the radio had just added a bit of background noise, which only served to underline how alone she was.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at her front door and for the second time that night she jumped. Quickly, she made her way to the door and, remembering her earlier encounter with Mrs. Blackdash, opened the little door that sat over her peephole. Immediately, a smile spread across her face as she saw dark, messy hair and pair of wire-rimmed glasses staring back at her. She slammed the little door shut and swung the big front door open wide.

"Harry! You came back!" she sang out.

"Of course," he replied, opening his arms wide as she sailed into them. He held her body tight against his and breathed in the flowery scent of her hair. After a second or two he whispered against her ear, "I hope you don't mind, but I brought someone back with me."

She stiffened against him and pulled away, anger coursing through her. "You did what?" she snapped, her head jerking around, eyes darting behind him, looking for the unwanted visitor.

"Relax," he said, wishing he'd put it differently and pointing at the little pet carrier beside his feet. "It's just Crookshanks."

Hermione softened immediately. "Crookshanks!" she squealed in honest delight, picking the carrier up and bringing it inside. Harry followed feeling a little guilty for giving her such a scare.

That night, after making love and falling asleep with arms and legs tangled up together, Hermione's dreams were restless. She was suddenly back in the dungeon cell at Voldemort's fortress.

"There!" Bellatrix said, pointing to a corner of the cell where the guards who'd been dragging Hermione behind them dropped her. She collapsed onto the ground and pressed her forehead to the cool stone beneath her. Her hands shook as she brushed her wild hair out of her eyes. Her clothes were torn and filthy and she was bleeding. Her body felt like it had been ripped in two. Her legs hurt from being forced apart and her face still burned at the humiliation of what had happened up in the main rooms. She still couldn't believe that Snape had actually…

"Stand up, Mudblood!" Bellatrix ordered, interrupting her thoughts. Hermione had not realized that Bellatrix was still close by. She stood on shaking legs. She could feel blood trickling down her thighs.

"Clothing is for people," Bellatrix instructed. "You are a dog." Before Hermione could protest or even hurl an insult back at Bellatrix, her clothes fell off her body. Bellatrix had used some kind of charm to do it, but Hermione had no idea which one. She immediately made to cover herself, to the delight of Bellatrix.

"Guards!" Bellatrix snapped. And the two guards who'd dragged Hermione in reappeared and took one arm each, leering at her naked body. The humiliation was too much. Hermione felt tears well in her eyes as a hot blush stole over her skin.

They turned her around so that her naked back faced Bellatrix and then one the guards lifted a hand to sweep her long hair away. Hermione felt his hand linger on her neck and she shuddered with fear. With her back exposed Hermione waited, Bellatrix behind her, terrified of what it could mean. Finally, the searing pain she'd known must be coming arrived and her knees nearly gave out again. Her back was on fire; that was the only way to describe it.

"There," said Bellatrix, sounding exceedingly pleased with herself. The guards dropped Hermione again and again she crumpled to the stone floor, the awful burning on her back wrenching a sob out of her.

Hermione stayed down, her entire body shaking at the abuse it had endured in the past hour. Her shredded clothing lay in tatters under her knees she curled into a ball, hoping Bellatrix and her leering guards would go.

"I have other Mudbloods to welcome before the night is over, _dog_," Bellatrix said tossing something at Hermione. "But I will see you tomorrow." The promise sent such a jolt of fear through her already shaking body that Hermione jerked awake and sat straight up in bed, her breathing rough and shallow, and sweat pouring off of her.

She clutched her arms around herself and looked wildly about the dark little bedroom.

Harry awoke, too, and sat up as well, realizing immediately that something was wrong.

Hermione was shaking uncontrollably, rocking forward and back, and muttering something he couldn't understand.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, put his head close to hers and whispered, "You're safe, it's all right. Everything's all right. I'm here. You're safe."

Slowly, Hermione's body stopped jerking and her breathing slowed. As she relaxed into him and he gently laid her down again, she rubbed her face and whispered, "I'm sorry. It's been a while since I've had a nightmare like that."

"It's alright," he whispered back. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Hermione shook her head and closed her eyes. "I'm okay now."

Harry looked unconvinced and propped himself up on an elbow as she watched her trying to calm down.

"How often does this happen?"

"It used to be a lot more often. I used to wake up screaming, which the neighbors didn't care for. Now it's only once a month or so."

He lifted his free hand and stroked her forehead. "Once a month seems like a lot."

She gave him a faint smile and said, "It's over now. Go back to sleep." And, believing that she was right, Hermione rolled over and closed her eyes. After a few moments her breathing slowed and evened, and Harry fell back asleep, too, his arm thrown protectively over her.

Within minutes her subconscious found its way back into the dungeon. This time, though, she was being taken from her cell, was being led down a corridor to a door with a black snake on it. Her wrists were bound in front of her and she was wearing the disgusting shift Bellatrix had flung at her earlier. It was shapeless and too small. When they reached the door one of the guards knocked once and it opened to reveal Snape, dressed all in black as usual. His cold eyes swept over Hermione and she found herself staring at the ground, mortified to be in such a position of weakness before him.

He stepped away from the door and one of the guards pushed her into the little room. It was about the size of her cell, but furnished with a bed and a table and chair. The guards left and Hermione was alone with Snape. He unbound her wrists and she moved as far away from him as possible, pressing herself against the far wall.

"Granger," he said quietly and she stiffened. His use of just her surname was indicative of their transcendence over the polite niceties they'd used at Hogwarts. "Miss Granger," was something he would probably never say again, and with good reason. She was no longer his student.

He grimaced but nodded at her reaction. After what he'd done how could he expect anything different? "I'm sorry," he said, wishing he could take it all back, make another choice.

In that moment up in the main rooms he had thought that the side of good was a higher cause, and that being Harry Potter's best friend, she would agree. If he had outed himself, everything the Order had been working toward for so long would be lost. He was, after all, the only double agent they had, and he'd felt that surely she would agree. And she had – in theory. When it came to actually taking her innocence before a crowd of jeering onlookers, she had played the part of unwilling and hysterical rape victim superbly.

There was a pitcher of water on the table and he poured some into a bowl. Then, wetting and wringing out a cloth, he moved to where she stood and gently began to wash her face. Hermione didn't move. She stared over his left shoulder and waited as he rinsed and wrung the cloth more than once before moving to her hands and feet. She could smell his skin and the scent made her want to vomit.

"You understand what must happen?" he asked when he'd finished. She looked at him for the first time and barely nodded her assent. "If it were anyone else but Bella I don't think it would matter, but she is petty and mean beyond all reason."

Hermione just nodded again. Bellatrix had raised holy hell when she'd found out that Voldemort had meant what he'd said about Hermione belonging to Snape. "The first time he doesn't take advantage…," she'd bellowed, leaving the threat unfinished. Voldemort had agreed and even, to lessen the sting of losing such a prize, granted her permission to entertain herself with Hermione during the day.

"Please tell me what she does to you. I will heal whatever I can." Hermione nodded again and closed her eyes thinking that he couldn't possibly heal what she wanted healed the most. Even her burned and scarred back mattered little compared to what had already been taken.

Snape seemed to sense her thoughts, or maybe he was just reading her mind, because he turned to her then and said thoughtfully, "You are, I think, too young to have to go through with this. Your life will never the same if we ever get out of here. Perhaps I've been too worried about the Order. It won't be pretty; in fact, we probably won't make it out alive but maybe…"

"No," Hermione said, cutting him off and speaking for the first time. "If we try to get out now it will have been for nothing."

Snape stared at her. "It might end up being for nothing anyway. If they find us out it's the end of everything."

"Then we can't let them find out."

"You realize what that means?"

Hermione nodded and looked at the bed in the corner, her face pained.

"Very well," he replied and tentatively reached out one hand.

Panic ripped through her body and again she was jolted out of sleep and sat straight up, panting, with sweat coursing down her back. Harry was there with her again, holding her tight and murmuring soothing words in her ear. She'd covered her face with her hands and tried to take deep breaths. Harry held her close and tried to be patient. He was sure this was another nightmare and he hoped she'd talk about it this time.

The first gray light of dawn was seeping in through the windowpanes. Finally, after several minutes of collecting herself, she pulled away from him and said in a small voice, "I'm sorry I woke you again."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

Hermione realized that she was still naked from their lovemaking the night before and she pulled the sheet up to cover herself. Harry watched, wishing there was something he could do. "Do you want to talk about it?"

With a slow shake of her head, Hermione gave him a sad smile and said, "I've told you already what happened. I wish I could stop dreaming about it, is all."

Harry squeezed her hand and wished she could, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: See Chapter One

A/N: This is rated R for a reason, the pairing is Harry & Hermione. It's slightly AU.

Big thanks go out to ParticleAccelerator for the fabulous beta reading.

Reviews are coveted (in case you were wondering).

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the storyline.

xoxox

"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

They were lying in her bed later on in the morning, enjoying the silent calm of a lazy Saturday. He had not asked her again about the nightmares, but he was still worried. Instead, he twined his fingers with hers and snuggled so close that they were sharing a pillow, his chin rubbing against her forehead every once in a while.

"Tell me about Ron and Luna's baby."

"The baby?" Harry asked, more than a little confused. He was thinking of the unborn baby Luna was carrying, and he couldn't think what to tell her about it except what he'd already told her - that it would be arriving in about seven months.

"Yes. You said they have a baby," she reminded him

With a nod of realization Harry recalled his words and said, "Right, yes. The baby is named Arthur, for Ron's dad, and he looks just like a Weasley, freckles and bright red hair, except for his eyes, which are all Luna."

Hermione smiled into the pillow, enjoying the picture he'd painted, as he absently twisted a lock of her hair in his fingers.

"And how is everyone else?"

"To be honest, Ron is barely speaking to me right now," he told her with a bit of a sigh.

"Barely speaking to you? What happened?"

"This happened," he said quietly. He hoped she wouldn't hear the frustration in his voice.

"Oh," she replied.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

"What does everyone else say?"

"Ginny and Luna are the only other ones who know and they just want you to be safe and happy."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a tap-tap-tapping against the window. They both looked up, startled, and saw an owl, black as night, perched on a tree branch tapping its beak against the window. There was something attached to its ankle. It was unmistakably a letter.

Hermione rose and opened the window to let the owl in before removing the letter and frowning at Harry. "It's addressed to me. Who could have sent it?"

Harry did not reply but he had a deep sense of foreboding. The owl, seeing that it would not be given any treats, flew off back through the open window.

Still frowning, Hermione opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

It read-

_Dear Granger,_

_I would have written before now, but I took your silence as indication that you wanted no contact. While I can completely understand your need for silence from me, I felt that I could no longer hold my tongue on this issue, and I hope you'll understand._

_I have reason to believe that a counter-curse exists for the condition in which you now find yourself. Forgive me, but I could not help asking after your health in the months after you removed yourself from Grimmauld Place._

_After many hours of study and research I came across an ancient and ruined text with the necessary information therein. I gave it to the healers at St. Mungo's and they had never heard of it, but cautiously believe it may work._

_I wanted you to be the first to have this information, if you wanted it. The St. Mungo's admission department is awaiting you, should you choose to investigate the matter further._

_I would have given this information to Potter yesterday when he was here, but I was taken aback by his sudden appearance. I apologize for any inconvenience. _

_Yours ever,_

_Severus Snape_

The formality of the words made her feel brittle and shaky inside and she read the letter through twice, her face white as the paper she was holding, before looking up at Harry and asking in a voice shot through with anger, "You've seen Snape?"

Harry paled a little, too, realizing too late that he should have immediately given her this information. He'd meant to bring it up slowly, easing her into the idea of his being in contact with Snape, and explaining the incident fully.

"Answer me!" she said, sharply.

Harry stood, feeling both defensive and guilty. "Yes. I saw Snape yesterday."

"How _dare_ you?"

"I…" Harry fumbled, wishing the conversation were happening at any point before the letter had come. Now it looked liked he'd been caught out in something. "I'm sorry. I got angry and went to see him. Nothing happened, though. We talked, that was it. At first I wanted to rip his face to shreds but you were right, as usual. He's a wreck of a man and all I had was pity."

Hermione relaxed fractionally and said, "A wreck?"

Harry nodded.

There was more silence then as Hermione's emotions and thoughts ran wild and in different directions.

Finally, she said in a calmer voice, "I have loved you for as long as I can remember. But if this is going to work - _if you want this to work_ - we have to be honest with each other. I don't ever want to be surprised like that again."

Harry nodded, afraid to say anything that might set her off again. What an idiot he'd been not to tell her right away. At his assent, Hermione stepped closer to him and handed him the letter.

"The condition you now find yourself in?" he repeated. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Hermione was re-reading it again, over his shoulder, her face a picture of concentration. "I don't know. But I think it's worth a trip to St. Mungo's to find out."

With a snap of his head he was staring at her, astonished. "Really? You'll come back to London?"

"I don't know if I'm ready to live there again," she answered, her words tentative, "but this…might be worth looking in to."

xoxox

Harry didn't press the issue with her, but remained supportive. He had no idea what Snape was playing at, had no reason to trust his old enemy, and meant to protect Hermione from anything that might happen in the foreseeable future. After struggling for so long to find her, he had no intention of letting her go again. Her straightforward declaration of love was not lost on him, either.

They didn't rush off to St. Mungo's right away. For one thing, it was the weekend and they knew from experience that hospitals on the weekend were filled with emergency cases and Monday would be a better time to drop in and see the healer on staff.

Harry used his wand to replenish her cupboards and they ate sandwiches for lunch with chocolate frogs afterwards, enjoying the memories evoked by the childish dessert. Hermione continued to quiz him on Ron and Luna and Ginny. She asked about the twins, Fred and George, and Bill and Fleur and the rest of the Weasleys. She even asked about Neville, which told Harry that she really must be missing them all.

He filled her as well as he could, but once the war had ended, people had gone back to their normal little lives, relishing the monotony of daily life. Bill and Fleur were summering in the south of France, visiting her family and introducing their twin girls, aged two, to the sunny beaches of Nice.

"You should see them," he told her. "Their hair is almost white it's so blonde, just like Fleur's, and Ron suspects that she was delighted not to have more red hair and freckles."

"What are their names?" Hermione pressed.

Harry struggled to remember – it had been six months since he'd seen them at Christmas-time. "Violet and Daisy, if I recall…flowers like their mother was the thinking, I suspect."

"Lovely," she murmured, looking quickly out the window.

"You know," Harry began carefully, "while you're at St. Mungo's you'll be awfully close to Grimmauld Place." Hermione's expression was unreadable, neither good nor bad as she turned back to look at him, so Harry continued, "And after all, everyone misses you as much as you miss them…couldn't they come see you?"

"I don't know," she said slowly. "All the questions. I don't want to answer all their questions. It's too much."

Harry understood. She had not talked about it with him since her initial explanation, not even when she'd woken up shaking like a leaf from nightmares. "What if they didn't ask any questions? I could talk to them beforehand; prepare them."

"What would you say?"

"As much or as little as you want."

"I don't want Snape's name involved."

Harry's lips thinned, but he nodded and said nothing.

"Let's see what the healers have to say first," Hermione finally said. "If I'm there long enough to even have visitors, then okay. If not, I don't know."

Harry nodded and reached across the table, taking her hands in his. At least it was a step in the right direction.

xoxox

Sunday was stormy and they spent the day in bed. Harry had been through the initial thrill of discovering one person before, but never like this. Hermione devoted herself to the study of his body the way she devoted herself to the study of anything. She was methodical, but exquisitely tender and a quick learner.

He told her about the final battle and she took his hand when his voice broke over the losses of friends. Harry looked at her then, unwilling to break the stare and said firmly, "You have no idea how happy I was to finally find you."

Hermione tried to look away, but he caught her chin and said again, "No idea. When you were captured I thought I would die, and when you came back but then disappeared I wanted to. I love you. I always have."

She kissed him then to keep him from saying any more. It made her regretful and sad, the time she'd spent here, away from him. The kissed deepened and she made a sound at the back of her throat that made Harry's pulse race.

Threading his fingers through her long mass of hair, Harry pulled her closer and let his mouth drift down her neck to her delicate collarbone and lower. She shivered and smiled with her eyes closed, pulling her camisole up.

Harry meanwhile was pushing it down, the lacy trim revealing a creamy expanse of skin that he trailed hot kisses over. With a growl, she pushed him over so that she was in control. "Gods…" he moaned when she sucked first one flat, male nipple and then the other. His mind raced with the sensations as she nipped at the skin of his ribs and lower. He was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and she soon made short work of those.

His brain turned off completely when he felt her mouth demanding his full attention. What she lacked in experience, she made up for in enthusiasm, he had to admit. When he could take it no longer, when he knew that it would be soon, he roughly pulled her up and doffed her panties, driving his tongue into her mouth and thrusting into her body. She came almost at once. It still surprised him, the force of her uninhibited sexuality. She threw back her head and shouted his name and he savored the moment.

Later, when they lay spent and languid, sleepy and pleased with themselves, Harry tried to picture Hermione, resplendently pregnant, with belly swollen and breasts heavy like ripened fruit, growing and glowing a little more with each passing day.

But all he could see was this Hermione, who lay curled against him, skin pale, stomach flat, almost girlish. For the first time in his life he found himself wanting, really wanting, what a man wants from a woman – a home and a family.

He said a quick prayer as he drifted to sleep. This could be it, this trip to St. Mungo's. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he suspected that if all went well he would owe Snape much more than just an apology.

xoxox

They arrived at St. Mungo's early Monday morning. Hermione felt edgy and unsettled. She knew that it wouldn't be wise to grasp at straws that might not be there, but she was also not able to help the tiny swell of hope that flared in her chest every few minutes.

Harry was going through a similar set of emotions. He waited, impatiently, as Hermione filled out the necessary paperwork and was led into an office. He was to wait outside in the empty waiting room. Time ticked by relentlessly slow. He flipped through a few outdated magazines, paced the floor, and checked his watch a dozen times or more.

Finally, thirty minutes later, when Hermione emerged from the inner office and shook the healer's hand, Harry jumped to his feet and crossed the room in two strides, eager to hear what she had to say.

She smiled and led him back to the chairs as the healer disappeared again behind the door.

"Well?" he demanded. "What did he say?"

Unable to remove the grin she wore, Hermione began to talk, smile still plastered to her face. "The counter-curse is complicated, and they want to me to stay overnight for observation afterward, but it looks like there might be a way."

"Really?" Harry could not quite believe it.

"Really."

They stared at each other a moment, allowing the news to sink in. Hermione ducked her head, suddenly feeling shy. Harry took her hand and squeezed.

"So what next?" he asked.

"He's going to arrange for a nurse to admit me, get me a room and they'll take it from there. The procedure has to be scheduled but everyone is pretty keen to find out if it'll work so…I think it'll be sooner rather than later."

They sat for a moment, tense with anxiety and anticipation at what this could mean.

Feeling that his heart was almost too big for his chest, Harry took a breath and tried not to be too excited. Instead, he changed the subject and said, "What about Ginny and Ron and Luna?"

xoxox

The counter curse involved seven senior healers and took over an hour, but in the end everything went as expected. "You'll need to come back for a follow up visit, but as of this moment everything should be…as it always was," the healer said as a nurse stood nearby scribbling onto a clipboard.

"How will I know for sure?" Hermione asked, frowning. She hated anything that couldn't be measured and examined. "As it always was" sounded far too vague for her liking.

"Well, as to that, Miss Granger, if you are sexually active you should use precautions or risk finding out," he joked.

Hermione quickly glanced at Harry, who was still looking at the doctor, lapping up the information and a thought occurred to her. She'd read it somewhere. When you've read as many books as Hermione had read you couldn't always remember where you got something. The thing she remembered was this: sperm, providing it did not come into contact with oxygen could live for 2-3 days. The doctor was talking again but she'd stopped listening. She and Harry had never used precautions – there'd been no need to prevent pregnancy and neither of them had any diseases. Just yesterday they'd…several times…which meant that she could already be…. _But no_, she thought. _It would be too soon. Impossible!_

Harry left her that evening with along goodbye kiss. He was going back to Grimmauld Place to stay the night and she'd agreed that he could bring Ron and Luna and Ginny with him when he returned the next morning.

He held her tight and said, "No matter what the end result is, Hermione, I want to marry you. I love you and I don't want to be apart any more."

"Such a romantic." she teased.

"I mean it," he told her. "If you want me to write it in letters in the sky I will."

"I know. And yes, let's."

Harry kissed her again and hated to go, but was eventually kicked out by the night nurse.

Hours later, when it was dark and halls were quiet, Hermione looked up from her book on new transfiguration techniques to see a dark figure near the door. She'd been given a private room and she was startled to see that she was no longer alone. The figure stepped forward and she saw that she knew who it was. _Harry was right,_ she thought, _he is a wreck of a man. All my thoughts and fears over what had become of him, they all came true._

Snape smiled, a little apologetically. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

"You're not." she told him kindly

"They told me you'd come."

"Yes. Thanks to you."

He nodded. His skin, normally pale, was almost translucent, except for the deep lines and dark smudges under his eyes.

"How have you been?" she asked.

"I've been better," he admitted.

Her heart ached. She was getting everything she'd ever wanted: Harry, her friends back, the chance for a family, a normal life. And he was still locked in that misery. "I'm sorry to hear that," she told him, meaning it with all her heart.

"You and Potter, then?" he asked ignoring her sympathy.

She smiled. His voice betrayed only the slightest hint that he did not approve of her choice. "Yes. I've loved him since I was eleven."

"I suppose you could do worse," he said grudgingly.

"Thank you."

"I hope he makes you happy."

"If he doesn't, he'll hear about it," she promised with a smile. Snape smiled, too, though it was a little stiff, as if he'd gotten out of practice.

"Good. Because you deserve…" here his voice caught a little.

"I know," she said. "And so do you. Take care of yourself."

He nodded again. "Do the same," he said gently. And then he was gone.

That night, Hermione slept better than she had in months.

xoxox

On Tuesday morning, Hermione awoke feeling refreshed and especially alive. She ate everything on her breakfast tray and waited with much eagerness for Harry to arrive with Ron and Luna and Ginny. She could not believe that it had only been one week since Harry had unexpectedly knocked on her door.

So much had happened. She'd taken the first step toward rejoining society, she and Harry would be married, they could possibly have a baby some day and most importantly, she'd finally made her peace with Snape. She felt in her heart that all would be well, if not tomorrow, perhaps one day soon.

She thought about her parents, whom she'd had no contact with for so long. She'd been selfish, she could see that now. Retreating into herself, neglecting her loved ones…Her parents probably thought she was dead after all this time, lost in the Great War against Voldemort. She needed to go visit them. _As soon as I'm release,_ she decided. _I'll take Harry with m_e. The thought of re-introducing Harry to her parent, this time as her intended, made her smile.

She touched her flat belly and for the first time in more than a year allowed herself to daydream. She closed her eyes and pictured a baby with silky dark hair and sharp green eyes. Before she could go much further, there was a knock on her door.

"Come in!" she called, eagerly.

Harry's face appeared first and behind him were Ron, Ginny and Luna. Yes, she decided. Things were definitely going to be okay.

End.


End file.
